For Whom the Butterflies Flutter
by Lady Knight 1512
Summary: She can’t remember anything but him. His fingers in her hair, his breath in her ear, his mouth on the nape of her neck. SPOILERS 2x13.


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Gossip Girl books or TV series. These characters are the property of their respective owners and I am not profiting from their use in any way.**

**Spoilers through 2x13.**

**For Whom the Butterflies Flutter**

It is New Year's Eve when the news comes and they have all gathered at the Waldorf-Rose penthouse to see in 2009: Blair, with her mother and new stepfather; Serena, with Eric and Lily; Nate, with his mother; Jenny, at Eleanor's invitation; and Dan, at Serena's. The only people missing are Aaron Rose, who elected to stay in Argentina; Chuck, still missing and Bart, dead.

It is small, as Upper East Side soirees go. Small, but classy. It is impossible to forget that Bart Bass will never make another business deal and that Chuck is nowhere to be found. Cyrus, ever cheerful and optimistic, had said they should celebrate the New Year and not begin it with such dreary thoughts, but Blair put her foot down. There would be no celebrating for her, not until Chuck was back, safe and sound, in her arms.

Serena leans back into the cushions behind them on the sofa, but Blair sits primly on the edge of the seat. Her shoulders are straight and rigid; her grip on her glass is white-knuckled. Her stomach is in an uproar, as it had been since the night she'd woken up and found him gone, only a note left to prove that he'd ever been there at all.

And the butterflies are still there, fluttering harder than ever.

Cyrus stands in the corner, speaking with Nate's mother. Opposite them, are Eleanor and Jenny. Blair can only imagine they are talking about something fashion related, in ways only they can. Eleanor could never discuss design with Blair. Blair had always been like a beautiful porcelain doll; she wore the clothes, but could never design them herself. Eric speaks with his mother, and Dan with Serena. Only Nate and Blair are silent.

But over all the noise, Blair can hear the ticking of the clock on the mantle. The rest of the noise dies away and she can see the mouths moving, but can't hear the words.

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock. _

Counting up, counting down. Counting, always counting, making time go by.

Blair wonders, if she were to get up and place her finger on the second hand, hold it in place, if time will stop. Or maybe she can just slow time down enough for Chuck to come back. She doesn't want to go into the New Year without him.

"B."

Serena's voice shatters the silence. Almost robotically, Blair turns her head. Serena's eyes stare back at her with concern. Even Humphrey looks worried for her.

If Chuck were there, they'd laugh about how far they'd come with Cabbage Patch, both in their different ways. They'd laugh and cook up some other scheme, or they'd fight and spit out the words they knew would hurt the most. Or maybe they'd just sit together, knowing what they had, but unable to admit it, not out loud anyway.

Except that she _had_ admitted it out loud. She'd broken the rule, changed the game, or stopped it, finally.

In the end, it hadn't mattered. He'd walked away anyway.

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

"B."

She'd lost herself again and makes herself focus on Serena's face, on her words.

Serena gestures to Dorota, who stands in front of them, a platter of pastries in her hands. The maid looks concerned as well and holds the platter out to Blair.

"Miss Blair, you have not eaten all day."

She hasn't? Really? She can't remember. She can't remember anything but him. His fingers in her hair, his breath in her ear, his mouth on the nape of her neck.

Nate's hand reaches forward and places a pastry on a small plate. He handes it to Blair, who sits the plate on her knee.

Dorota walks away, almost reluctantly it seems, as if she wants to stay there and shove the food down her mistress' throat herself.

Serena sighs and reaches for Blair's glass. She has to pry it out of Blair's fingers, but Blair lets her have it. She turns and watchs her friend inspect the glass before turning her own gaze to it.

She starts. The glass isn't long and thin, or round and delicate. It doesn't hold champagne or wine. It isn't even a martini.

It is a tumbler. Scotch.

Blair doesn't like Scotch. She never has, having always thought it a harsh, fiery drink. It just isn't her style. But her tongue remembers the taste. Scotch and cigarettes. A foul combination to be sure, but at the same time, comforting and familiar.

Serena shakes her head and downs the drink. She shudders violently and sets the glass down on the coffee table.

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

The butterflies flutter harder, their wings tickling the inside of her stomach. Harder and harder, faster and faster, and all the while, the clock ticks on towards midnight, keeping the butterflies beating in time.

She feels sick, she feels alone, she feels…empty.

Her hands curl against her stomach, and she closes her eyes. She can feel her breath becoming shallow and hear blood pounding in her ears.

She is standing on a precipice, almost over the edge. There is still time to change her mind, still time to go back. But back to what? She has already lost everything.

_Tick, tock. Tick—_

A cell phone on the other side of the room chirps.

The voices in the room stop.

"Hello...Yes, I'm Lily Bass…"

The butterflies stop…

…and Blair opens her eyes.

Lily's face is white when she hangs up and her eyes seek out her daughters. She clasps Eric's hand tightly between hers and shakes her head slowly.

She only has to say one word.

"Chuck."

Nate collapses on the armrest next to Blair and buries his face in his hands. On her other side, Blair hears Serena sob and Dan whisper to her comfortingly. Everyone else is silent.

The roaring in her ears gets louder and louder, but she isn't sure if it sounds like her screaming, or her insides dying, or her heart breaking…or _him_ saying her name over and over again.

She stands abruptly. The plate that had been sitting on her knee falls to the floor and shatters into a hundred little pieces, never to be repaired.

The ticking of the clock is the only sound they can hear. Even Serena's sobs have quietened and everyone seems to be holding their breath. Are they waiting to see what Blair will do?

Suddenly, the clock booms. From outside, they hear cheers and yells. Fireworks light the sky.

The clock finishs tolling the midnight hour and resumes its ticking.

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

Blair turns away from her family and friends, and moves towards the stairs and her bedroom. It is the last place she'd seen him, smelt him, heard him. The note is up there, proof that he had existed.

Some suicides are never recorded.

Chuck Bass's was.

**88888888**

**A/N: So, I haven't written FanFiction in more than a year, but I recently got into Gossip Girl and have been wanting to write something about the characters since. This particular piece was born from a writing prompt I found online somewhere, the prompt being that I should write something around or inspired by the line "Some suicides are never recorded" from ****Charles Bukowski's **_**The Meek Shall Inherit The Earth.**_

**I should note that if this piece feels very detached to you, then I've done my job right. It was definitely the feel I was going for, and is the reason I didn't show any of Blair's thoughts or describe much of the surroundings. She's there, but disconnected. Let me know if that came out for you.**

**Also, just a side note, the title is based on Ernest Hemingway's 'For Whom the Bell Tolls', the central theme of which is death. Obviously, this story's theme is also death, which comes through both Chuck and Blair.**

**Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!**


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